


And We Will Rise

by Anxiety_Induced_Writing



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Blood, Blood and Torture, Bullet wound, Character Death, Death by Bullet, Drowning, Friendship, I dont know how to tag, Immortal Fake AH Crew, Mad King Ryan Haywood, Madness, Multi, Mutilation, Organ Removal, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poisoning, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Starvation, The madness isnt how you think it is, im sorry, its bad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:07:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22375411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anxiety_Induced_Writing/pseuds/Anxiety_Induced_Writing
Summary: The Fakes were known to defy death, but hoe? Why? How did they become the gods of Los Santos, and why do they actually seem to be gods?This is how the Crew came to be, and the pain that made them who they are.Immortal time baybee!! I tried postibg this last week but it didnt work somehow. Enjoy!!
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	1. 502 BC, Greece

Jeremy Dooley was not ready to die. He was ready to start looking for a lover, ready to keep worshipping his patron, but the village had other plans. The water had been angry,and so a sacrifice was required, to appease the sea god. 

Jeremy wasn't expecting it to be him. How would he have guessed, he was a follower of Hermes, not Poseidon, and wasn't even from the village! He had been traveling, helping some but hurting most, those who didn't need all they had. He had only stopped in the village for rations, and he had been chosen. 

He wasn't expecting it. So, when Jeremy found himself bound and about to be thrown into the raging seas, he was still reeling from the shock. The seas seemed even more restless in anticipation, and Jeremy was tossed in. 

He was immediately pulled further in, and he thrashed as he lost sight of the shore, panic setting in. He silently prayed, begging for anyone to save him, as water flooded into his mouth, the salty taste burning his throat and lungs. 

Something heard him, though, as he was pulled towards the surface, fresh air hitting lungs, salty water being choked out of him as he tried to breathe. The storm picked up again, waves tumbling over him as he tried to stay afloat despite the ropes tying him up. Then, Jeremy heard voices not his own begin speaking in his mind. 

"You dare attempt to escape?"

"He is not yours, Poseidon, he is mine. He is not from your village."

"He was given to me from my village!"

"Please, I don't want to die." Jeremy's inner voice seemed so weak compared to the two gods in his mind, and he could feel their attention shift. 

"You don't want to die?" the first voice asked,and Jeremy could hear the smirk. "Then you won't. You will live until this world stops turning. You will understand us, and become like us. You will not age, and neither will the others after their first death. They will bear the markings of a death, but will not die. There will be more, and you will find them. Once we are gone, you will wish to have died now, but you will not. Not until the world ends."

Then Jeremy was tugged down under the waves once more, water filling is lungs and darkness taking over as a dark chuckle resonated in his mind.


	2. 1029, Scandinavia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Im sorry. Theres a lot of warnings but I don't know how to tag them. If you know of the Blood Eagle, thats what this is. Please take care of yourself if you cannot stand this. Future updates will have less horrible ways to die.

She laid on the stone, her breasts pushing uncomfortably into the stone beneath her. She thrashed about as strong hands held her own to each side of the slab, more hands holding her feet. A scream ripped from her mouth, anger raging through her body as she lay trapped. 

"How dare!" Lindsay shouted, anger and disbelief pushing her towards madness. "You all know who I am. You know what I have done for this town, for you, for your wives and husbands. I taught you to fight, to live!"

A hand pushed down her head, releasing a scream within her. "Lindsay, follower of the great Freya, I wish it did not have to come to this. You have slaughtered our chieftain, and you must pay the price."

"You know that wasn't me!" A rope was tied around her throat, pulling her down. Another wordless scream came from the bound woman as the four men immediately around her started praying. "The true killer will suffer for this!"

"Yes you will." A voice said as a pain sliced its way up from Lindsay's lower back, causing her to scream. She could feel the knife scrape against bone, and tears poured down her face in agony. The knife lifted away, leaving Lindsay with warmth running down her sides and shaky sobs. The anger still burned bright inside, letting her scream even before the axe hacked into her. 

She felt the heavy weapon break the ribs from her spine, dirty crunching noises coming seconds before screams, sobs becoming whimpers as something was rubbed into the bloody mess that was her back. If her mind wasn't filled with anger and pain, she'd have known it was salt, used to make the pain burn that much more. 

She screamed as her ribs were forced backwards, the pain threatening to drag her under. Then something was inside of her, pulling. Each breath was suddenly harder, and darkness was tearing at her vision. Panic rushed her brain, a weapon. She didn't have her weapon. Then, the darkness swallowed her. 

Lindsay watched as her town burned, matching the anger burning inside. The men had just untied her when she came to, her body back to before, the men feet away. Slowly she had bent down and took ahold of the still bloody axe. Lindsay held up up, feeling the heaviness, and grinned. 

Now, the village was set aflame, and Lindsay, armed only with the axe, ran.

The first time there was a pool party, Lindsay was nervous, but proud. So she wore a bikini. No one mentioned it when she first showed up. It was only after Gavin was alone with her that is was brought up. 

"Lindsay," he started, quietly, which was very uncharacteristic of him. "How did you die the first time?" He was so serious, but of course he was. A first death was personal. Well, Gavin didn't have that privacy for his, Lindsay thought. He had Geoff when he died. 

"I had my ribs ripped backwards." She saw him slowly approaching, a hand outstretched before he pulled it back. "You can touch."

She almost flinched at the touch, but restrained herself. Gavin's hand traced the long white scar along her spine. "I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault, nor was it mine."


	3. 1179, Ireland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Ryan Haywood  
> TW: poison,rebellion, betrayal, death

It had been decades since the last big tug Jeremy had gotten, the need to go travel despite never knowing why. He ignored it last time, and now it was back, so this time he followed. It lead him across the water, which caused him much anxiety, and to a small kingdom, unknown by many, feared by those who knew. It lead him to a man named the Mad King. 

He didn't fear the King, to the surprise of many. Jeremy quickly found his way into the castle, forced on his knees in front of the King by the same guards he refused to bow down to. They were his equals, he wouldn't let himself be stepped on. The King smiled at him, and Jeremy felt that same weird tug,making him want to run to the man in front of him. 

If only he could, if not for the shackles around his arms and legs. 

"What is your name, peasant?" The King smirked, waving off the guards. They left, reluctantly, one staying behind before the King waved even him away. Soon they were alone, the King on his throne and Jeremy on the ground in front. 

Jeremy looked up, meeting the ice blue eyes of the man, anger bubbling within as he saw the amusement in them. "My name is Jeremy. May I please be released from these confinements?" He kept his voice even. 

The King smiled, amusement still there. "What will you do for me if I did such a thing?"

"I will be your protector. I will protect your life with my own, I will be your hand. Just so long as I am free." Jeremy didn't know where the words came from, but they just felt right. He needed to know this man. He needed to keep him safe. 

"How am I to know you won't murder me yourself?"

"You just have to trust me. I swear to the gods above. I swear to the River Styx that even now slows in its rushing waters. I swear to you, my King."

"Okay."

"Jeremy, I just don't know what to do! They all expect me to be so ruthless and such but I don't want to hurt the rebels!"

"I'm sure you'll do fine, Ryan. It will work out. Find out what they want and act like you won't give it to them, but slowly give in."

"I don't want them to take away my crown. I know I'm supposed to be evil and scary but its hard." 

Jeremy took Ryan's hands in his own, the King's chambers quiet without the two talking, and he could feel them shaking. Ryan was panicking. 

"Listen to me. You will be King until you die, I will make sure of this. Do you trust me?"

"With my life." 

"Knight! The King is going to propose a toast, you need to taste it and take it to him." Jeremy nodded to the servant, who seemed nervous. He took the goblet from the kid and smiled at him. He shooed him off, telling him to go assist the cook. 

He took a sip of the drink, not tasting anything odd in the rather strong drink. Ryan was going to toast with this? Hope the rebels weren't lightweights. This was supposed to be a show of support of Ryan again, showing the rebels that they couldn't insult the King and get away with it. 

Jeremy took the drink out to Ryan himself, letting his fingers brush up the King's arm as he left, showing his support. Ryan didn't want this. 

Jeremy gasped as he collapsed to the ground, right outside the door to the dining hall. He felt pain course through him, targeting his heart. He was about to die. He had to warn Ryan, he had to-

Jeremy awoke minutes later, panic flooding him, he had to get to Ryan. He rushed up, swaying, and pushed the door open right at he saw Ryan fall. A wordless scream left him, and he rushed to his King's side. He fell to his knees, tears rushing down his face. 

"I promised you'd be King until you died, but I didn't mean it like this. Please. Don't leave me alone. I can't be alone again." He was acutely aware of the others in the room, all looking on in surprise. He felt his heart grow cold. "Get out." 

Nobody moved, all too struck to pay attention. That is, until Jeremy stood and screamed. "Get out! Get out and leave us alone! He's fucking dead now and you all are still here! Get the fuck out!" The few nobles rushed out quickly, but it wasn't until Jeremy drew a dagger from his side that they finally left. 

He felt a bubbly giggle leave him. Ryan was dead. Jeremy twirled the knife around, mesmerized by the firelight glinting off of the shiny metal. He laughed, tears streaming down his face as he thought. 

Jeremy didn't let himself grow close to anyone, he didn't want that heartbreak. To know he was going to live on without them. Now though, this was hard. He couldn't help but grow close to the King, his friend, his Ryan. Ryan, who was now dead. 

He flinched as he heard a gasping gulp of air beside him,nearly flinging the blade at the body of the King. Ryan sat up, a haunted look in his eyes, then turned to face Jeremy. A sharp sadness pierced through Ryan's eyes, "You died too?" 

Jeremy couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Ryan was alive. "Ryan, Ryan you're alive. Oh my gods." He felt another sob bubbling up, as well as a bark of laughter. 

"I died." 

Jeremy lunged forward, pushing his face into his friend's shoulder, sobbing. "I didn't mean it like this. Not like this, please. Don't make him suffer too."

"Jer, what are you talking about, we're dead." 

Jeremy felt a shiver rush through him, and even Ryan tensed at the sound of an ocean. They were days travels from the sea. There should be no sound of waves rushing onto land. 

"Ryan, I'm immortal, and so are you, now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that came out more lovey than I was planning, should I make this a relationship fic,or just wait till everyones backstroke are done then toy with the idea?  
> Also this is not edited at all its just me writing and posting. If you notice anything weird please point it out. I need to start getting a beta reader...


	4. 1409, Italy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt Bragg

He wasn't well known when he died, so it was a surprise when the small town had a funeral for him. 

Matt was a simple farmer, no spouse or family, not many friends. He had a small farm, enough to support himself and get a little extra money. The only thing people could really know him for were his buildings. 

He designed most of the homes in the village a few hours away from him, although few know it. Only the builders knew, the builders who bought his plans. They noticed he was gone, all supplies left behind. 

Not that there was much, especially food wise, as storms had ravaged the land. Once they had cleared, Matt had no food, not to sell nor eat. It was easy to tell what happened, he had starved. 

The builders may not have had the body of their coworker, but that didn't stop them. They built a coffin, working tirelessly, and gathered the town. All of the villagers helped throw dirt over the memorial of the man that helped their town grow, and if Matt said he didn't have tears in his eyes as he watched while hidden by a nearby house, he'd be lying. 

He watched the final shovels of dirt land on the empty coffin, then left. Where? Who knew. Matt walked away, letting out a small cough, questioning why he was still alive, knowing he had been dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one was so short, I'm trying to get this entire fic done so I can do what I planned on a chapter that's only one away now. 
> 
> Also!! Im going to start taking requests for this fic! So,if you want to know like, how two people meet, what someone did during a time period, ect. Let me know!


	5. 1689, Austria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geoff Ramsey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw:  
> Stabbing, being shot,dying

Geoff Ramsey didn't like to think about the past, but sometimes it came upon him whether or not he liked it. He remembered it especially when new members joined the crew. Sitting up late at night, the penthouse was dark as he sat on the terrace, looking over his kingdom. The lights glittered as he ran his gaze over the city, his smile morphing into a frown as he let his mind drift. 

When someone died, it stank, Geoff learned. It was so cold, his toes in his shoes were virtually nothing, his fingers too cold to grasp his matchlock securely. His stomach rustled and gurgled, and he cursed his commander for withholding dinner rations for the third night so as to save food. 

The other guard had left to break, leaving Geoff alone at his post guarding the fort. There weren't many soldiers stationed here, but it was enough so that a guard was required. Of course, Geoff had been chosen for tonight, the commander probably sick of his arguing over food. How could they fight when they had no energy?

Maybe it was the cold, or perhaps it was the hunger clawing at his stomach that kept him from noticing the figure creeping up on him. It wasn't until he felt the warm rip of skin and muscle in his guy that he knew something was wrong. 

Geoff didn't scream from the bullet in his stomach, but instead screamed as a warning. He screamed as loud as he could, feeling the panic and pain build as his vision dimmed and was splotched with darkness, fingers stitching uselessly over his matchlock. He screamed in warning as a figure hovered over him, a smile wide on his face. 

"Sleep well, little soldier, tell God I said hello."

And then a musket was pressed to Geoff's head, and he saw nothing. 

He woke in a pile of bodies, which already were reeking despite it only having had been a couple of minutes based on Geoff's view of the rising moon. He stood slowly, legs shaking as he blinked at the stickiness of the blood still coating his face and grimacing at the metallic taste on his tongue. He walked, shakily, inside, not looking at the bodies he was once surrounded by. What the hell was happening?

His breath came in short bursts as he followed trails of blood, smeared along the floor and walls by bodies and hands. He went into the pantry, the only place not immediately open to Geoff's sight, where he found his attacker. He held up his matchlock, quietly loading the bullet in after the gunpowder, watching as the man dug through the food supplies. He blew on the rose, igniting the small fire at the tip, and opened the hatch. Then, he felt the musket jerk him back, accompanied by flash and a pop as he pulled the trigger, the ball shaped bullet landing in the intruder's chest. 

Geoff stalked over, slowly, a fiery fury alight in his eyes as the man wailed in pain. His eyes flickered up, catching Geoff's blood coated face, starting now to scream in fear.

"You! You died! I killed you!"

Geoff took out his knife strapped to his thigh and crouched in front of the intruder, taking note of everything about him. His voice screamed French, and Geoff let out a small, humourless laugh. 

"Clearly not. Say hi to the Devil for me, because neither him nor God are going to see me for a long while."

Geoff turned and left the fort behind him, blood still covering his body, knife left behind, buried in a man's heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always appreciated and if you have any suggestions I'm always open! Also, I am taking requests for one shots!


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